


The Real VE-Day

by lirin



Category: Oxford Time Travel Universe - Connie Willis
Genre: Crossover Cameo, F/M, VE Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 14:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12866754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirin/pseuds/lirin
Summary: "This ain't the real VE-Day," Alf said. "The real one's tomorrow.""Then we'll have to do that, as well," the vicar said, and took Eileen's arm. "What all's happening tomorrow, do you know?"—All Clear





	The Real VE-Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heuradys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heuradys/gifts).



> Thanks to drayton for betaing!

The little café had managed to stay open throughout the entire war; only one boarded-up window indicated the challenges that had entailed. But now the war had ended, and the café was packed from wall to wall with members of the rejoicing throng. Though Eileen was in a joyful mood herself, she thought she'd rather celebrate somewhere a bit less crowded. But she had told the vicar that they would meet him here, and she didn't want to rely on chance to meet him two days in a row. Taking a tighter grip on Alf's and Binnie's hands, she shoved the door open and started to push her way into the building. There seemed no hope of getting a table. Perhaps it would be better to wait outside.

"Why do we 'ave to go in 'ere?" Alf asked. "I thought you said we was gonna celebrate in the streets with everyone."

"We need to eat," Eileen said. "And isn't it rather celebratory to have a meal that we don't need ration books for? Besides, how else would we find Mr. Goode?"

"We found 'im fine yesterday," Alf said.

"Yes, but this way doesn't require firecrackers—Binnie!" Eileen reached out to take Binnie's hand, which had slipped from her grasp; but Binnie was already darting away through the café, ducking under people's arms and squeezing through gaps between people that were really too small to go through politely. Eileen squeezed Alf's hand tighter and hurried to follow before they completely lost sight of where she'd gone.

Alf elbowed people out of Eileen's path as they pushed their way through the main room of the café and around a corner. And there was Binnie, sitting triumphantly at an empty table. "They were just leaving," she said. "I thought I'd better move fast or someone else would take it."

"And there's the vicar!" Alf added, pointing out the window and waving wildly. Outside, Ezra Goode saw them and waved back, rather more sedately.

"That's settled, then," Eileen said. "Thank you, Binnie."

"Now we've found 'im, do we 'ave to stay?" Alf asked. "There's nothing going on in 'ere."

"You need to eat," Eileen said. Alf frowned and slumped noisily into the seat next to Binnie. "But," she added, "you may order a sandwich to take with you if you wish, if you promise to stay out of trouble."

"By which your mother doesn't just mean not to get yourself arrested," Ezra added, finally making his way through the crowd to their table, "but not to do anything she wouldn't do."

He smiled at Eileen in greeting, and she found herself thinking fondly of their more enthusiastic greeting yesterday. She should have taken Alf's advice and arranged to meet him in the streets; even with the war having just ended, a café was hardly the place for ardent demonstrations of affection. Instead, she turned to Binnie. "Do you want to go out as well?" she asked her. "I think Mr. Goode and I are just going to watch the crowds from in here for a while, but I understand if you young people want to be a bit more active."

"Aw, Mum, you're still young," Binnie said.

"I should certainly hope she is," said Ezra, "as she's around the same age as me, and I consider myself to have barely started out on life." He smiled at Eileen. "Our lives have just been on hold for a time, during the war, and now they can truly begin."

"But you should come," Alf said. "It'll be more fun outside. An' besides, Mum 'asn't 'ad a chance to talk alone with the vicar since 'e got back."

"I suppose," Binnie said. "You aren't going anywhere, are you, Mum?"

"I don't plan to, at least until later in the evening," Eileen said. "Why don't you two come back here every half hour or so, and at least wave from outside the window. Then Mr. Goode and I can tell you if we decide to go anywhere else." She handed them a few shillings. "Buy yourselves sandwiches or something else to eat before you leave the café," she said.

Ezra reached into his pocket for a few coins of his own. "And an ice cream or something if you happen across someone selling them," he said, splitting the coins between Alf and Binnie. "And make sure you don't lose track of time and forget to come back here and check in with your mother."

"Don't go too far!" Eileen called after them. "And no pinching!"

Ezra chuckled. "They still need the reminder, then? Do they usually do as you tell them?"

"More often than not. They have bigger concerns now, what with school and the war effort."

"Funny how much maturity a few years can bring to children of their ages. Even children like them. Sometimes I doubted they had it in them."

Eileen smiled fondly. "It's been quite the journey. It's been harder since Mike died and Polly moved away, of course, being left to take care of them all alone; but I don't regret taking them in."

"You haven't changed nearly as much as they have," Ezra said. "At least, not so far as I can tell. You look exactly as I remember you—you smile the same way, your hair's done the same, you're even wearing the same coat you wore when you saw me off at the station." He picked up a napkin from the table, twisting it slowly between his hands. "I wonder, though, if our friendship is different than it was then. Your letters have—there was nothing I looked forward to more. I laughed at all the anecdotes you told me about Alf and Binnie, but more than that, I treasured the things you told me about yourself." The napkin seemed as if it could not be twisted any tighter. He began to wrap it around his hand, absently sliding it between his fingers. "It didn't matter what you said, whether it was just what you had done the day before, or your hopes and dreams for what you would do if this war ever ended. But more than anything—" He broke off as a harried waitress delivered their soup, followed by a pot of tea. "Thank you," he said to her departing back. "Tea, Eileen?"

"Please."

He poured a cup for each of them, then untwisted his napkin and laid it in his lap. "This soup looks delicious," he said. "Are those onions?"

Eileen poked at her own dish. "I think so. Not that one can ever be certain, these days. Rationing has led to some terribly imaginative cooks."

"With imaginatively terrible results," he agreed with a chuckle. "But hopefully soon there will be no more need for that—though old habits die hard, I suppose."

"And some people can't cook whether food's rationed or not."

"Like your old Mrs. Rickett."

"Yes, her cooking is one thing I'll never miss," Eileen said. "I could give her the benefit of the doubt and say that her cooking might have been better if she could use any ingredients she wished, but I'd be lying."

"At least cooking for yourself these last few years made for more edible meals, although I know it took a lot more of your time—and made for some entertaining stories."

"Oh, you enjoyed those?" Eileen said with a laugh. "I almost did, too, once they were far enough in the past that the memory of the wasted time and wasted food could fade. Which did you like better, the chicken that got forgotten in the oven when the air raid siren went, or the time Alf knocked the green beans off the stove and claimed it was because he was trying to catch Mrs. Bascombe?"

"They were both terribly funny," he said, smiling back at her. "I was very grateful that you took the time to write them out for me. I think the green beans were definitely my favorite, though." He stirred his soup around slowly. "I'm sorry my letters weren't as funny."

"Oh, no, they were still wonderful!" Eileen said. "I was just glad you were able to write at all. You can ask Alf and Binnie, whenever a letter came from you it was the best part of my week. You're one of my closest friends, especially since Polly and Mr. Hobbe moved away. And when I read your letters, I knew that you were all right; and not only that, but you were thinking of me."

"I didn't only think of you when I wrote your letters," he said, face earnest. His hands were in his lap, and Eileen suspected that the defenseless cloth napkin was once again being twisted to its limits. "I thought of you quite a bit, actually. If I'm being honest, more than anybody else."

Eileen blushed. "You thought of me more than you thought of Lady Caroline?" she teased. "I'm honored."

He cracked a small smile at that. "How could you have reminded me of her?" he mock-wailed. "I've gone months without thinking about your erstwhile employer. Though there is one thing I appreciate her for—those driving lessons that gave me more time with you."

"And with Alf and Binnie and Una."

"It was worth it." He sipped at his tea, and gazed at Eileen, who took another spoonful of soup.

She wanted to say something, and cast about in her mind for something from his letters that she could comment on, something light or funny that she'd been entertained by. Outside, loud bangs heralded the use of some fireworks, followed by angry shrieks that sounded quite nearby. Eileen sighed. "I promise I checked Alf's pockets before we left the house. And besides, I thought he used all his firecrackers yesterday."

Ezra sighed as well. "It's possible that it was someone entirely unrelated and that we are blaming him unfairly, but I agree he seems the obvious suspect. Do you know where he got them?"

"I have no idea! I don't have time to keep an eye on them all the time. They've grown so much from when you and I first knew them, but they still have a ways to go. I know I've helped them considerably, but they're still at a disadvantage; they're behind in school because their earlier schooling was so lacking, and they've never known a father's care, and—well, I'm doing my best but they still need more."

Ezra slid his hand across the tabletop, until it was next to hers. "Oh, Eileen," he said, slipping his hand over hers, "what if I could suggest someone to fill one of the roles they're missing? Someone who already has experience dealing with the Hodbins, even?"

Eileen turned her hand over so that it was clasped in his. "I'd say it was certainly something that should be taken under consideration," she said.

"I know I haven't been back long," Ezra said. "I don't want to rush you into anything, but I just wanted to say that I hope you know—"

The side door of the café banged open and Alf was propelled inside, collar in the grasp of a woman in a WAAF uniform. "Oh, dear," Eileen whispered.

"So much for giving him the benefit of the doubt," Ezra murmured back.

The woman was now headed their way, Alf precipitated briskly in front of her. The crowd in the still busy café scarcely impeded their progress; Eileen wasn't sure whether it was the uniform or the fact that she seemed less concerned than Eileen had been about bumping into people. "Are these your parents?" she asked when she reached their table, still not releasing Alf's collar.

Eyes dramatically wide, Alf looked slowly from Ezra to Eileen. "Nope!" he announced finally.

Ezra and Eileen sighed. "Alf is the ward of Miss O'Reilly, here," Ezra explained. "I'm no relation to him, but I was vicar of the parish he attended before moving to London. Can we help you with anything, Section Officer...?"

"Carter," she said. "Your young man here seems to think that grenades are made with gunpowder," she said. "I found him trying to dismantle one in order to make some sort of giant firecracker, which would likely have been just as dangerous—if he'd managed to take the grenade apart without blowing himself to bits, which I daresay he wouldn't have."

Eileen winced. "Alf, the war has ended. We're meant to be celebrating no more bombs and bullets, not attempting to create one out of the other."

" 'Ow are we supposed to celebrate, then?" Alf asked. "And besides, it wasn't a live grenade. The soldier what sold it to me said it was a dud."

"Even a dud contains enough explosive to do you a great deal of damage," Section Officer Carter said. "But your heart was in the right place, and the design of your firecracker shows a decent knowledge of how they work—more knowledge, perhaps, than one would wish in someone your age." She turned to Eileen. "Miss O'Reilly, if you can promise to make sure he stays away from grenades in the future, I don’t see a need to take this further. After all, today is a day for celebration, and perhaps not for consequences."

Eileen nodded. "I'll talk to him about it and make sure he knows not to do anything like this in the future." _Not that knowing he shouldn't will change anything_ , she added mentally.

The section officer probably guessed what she was thinking, but smiled anyway. "Very good, then. And here." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple of squibs. "The soldier who sold you the grenade is more to blame than you, and you're still deprived of whatever you paid him, so perhaps these will make up for it. I thought they might be of use in the festivities, but I think you'll make better use of them than I." She shook hands around. "Vicar, Miss O'Reilly. Mr. Hodbin. Don't set those off too close to anybody."

"Thank you, Section Officer Carter," Ezra said. "We'll make sure Alf uses them responsibly."

Eileen watched her work her way back across the café, then turned to Alf. She frowned sternly.

"See, she wasn't that mad," Alf forestalled her. "Or she wouldn't 'ave given me the squibs."

"You could have blown yourself up," Eileen said. "Grenades are very dangerous." Sometimes she found Alf's antics amusing enough that it was hard to be stern with him, but this time she had only to picture Alf blowing himself up with a grenade and the angry firmness came easily.

"I told you, it was a dud."

"If the soldier who sold it to you could be trusted to tell the truth," Ezra said. "A soldier who sells grenades to eleven-year-olds is not the most dependable of people."

"Actually I was ten when I got it," Alf mumbled.

Eileen sighed. "I'm not going to ask where you've been keeping it, but I want to know, do you have any other explosives or weapons of any sort, whether or not they are actually in working order?"

Alf shook his head. "Just those two Roman candles you wouldn't let me bring. I used up everything else, yesterday and today. That's what I've been saving 'em for."

"It's an appropriate occasion to attempt to celebrate," Ezra said, "but I think both your mother and myself would be much happier if you would do so in a less dangerous manner."

"Where were you?" Binnie interrupted suddenly, storming up to the table. "I looked for you everywhere! I thought you said we were going to meet in Russell Square after you—" She broke off suddenly, looking worriedly at the two adults.

"After he blew himself up?" Eileen asked.

"He wouldn't have, it was a dud."

"A dud filled with—well, with whatever grenades are filled with. Not any sort of substance I want either of you anywhere around."

"Anyway," Binnie said brightly, "can we go to Buckingham Palace? I overheard some people saying that the king and the queen and the princesses have come out on the balcony several times. I want to go see the princesses and see if they look like they do in the magazines. Can we go?"

Alf nodded. "Yes, can we go to the palace? I wanna see the princesses too!"

Ezra smiled at the obvious redirect. He raised an eyebrow to Eileen.

"I think that sounds as good a place to celebrate as any," Eileen said. She picked up her green coat off the seat next to her. "Let's go."

 

Night had fallen, but lamps were shining everywhere, a profligate rejection of any further need for blackout. On a normal day, Buckingham Palace was only half an hour on foot from the café where they had dined, but the crowds slowed their progress. It was close to an hour before they had pushed their way the length of the Mall to a place where they could actually see the palace balcony. It was empty. Periodically, the crowd would take up the chant "We want the King!", but nobody appeared.

"Do you think they'll come out?" Binnie asked. Her voice was hoarse from yelling. "I want to see the princesses."

Alf reached into his pocket. Eileen placed a hand firmly on his arm. "No firecrackers," she said.

Alf took his hand out of his pocket and showed her that he was only holding a pair of binoculars. "I know," he whined.

Eileen started to reply, but the noise of the crowd had surged to a roar. The windows onto the balcony were opening!

Alf and Binnie jumped up and down, screaming. Eileen realized she was yelling as well. The excitement of the crowd was electric. She clapped wildly as both King George and Queen Elizabeth stepped out onto the balcony.

They were alone. Binnie turned to Eileen with a frown, and Eileen paused from clapping to pat her on the shoulder. "Maybe the princesses were tired," she said.

"On the 'appiest day we've 'ad in years?" Alf said with disdain. "Nobody's tired today."

"Maybe they're doing something else to celebrate," Ezra suggested. "A party, or something. They probably want to be able to talk to people about how happy they are, and they can't do very much of that standing alone on a balcony." He turned to Binnie. "I'm sorry you missed out on seeing them, though. Perhaps we could get another ice cream later; would that help make up for the disappointment at all?"

Binie tipped her head, more mature than when they'd first known her in Backbury and she would have accepted ice cream without a thought—not that anyone would have offered it to her. "I'd like that, yes, please," she said after a moment. She turned back to continue clapping; even without the princesses, seeing the king and the queen was still something to be excited about.

The king didn't make any sort of address—not that anybody would have been able to hear him if he did. He stood there for another few minutes, smiling and waving, then stepped back into the palace, followed by his wife. The crowd was a bit quieter once they were gone, but it still roiled with excitement and energy. With nothing remaining to be seen at the palace, it was time to move on. The crowd surged back down the Mall. Eileen seized hold of Binnie's and Ezra's hands. Ezra grabbed hold of Alf, and together they let the crowd carry them along.

The flood of people thinned a bit as they continued down the Mall, until it was more of a steady stream than a flood. They still held hands, but not so much because they needed to to stay together, as for the feeling of togetherness it gave them. Everywhere they went, there was laughter and cheer. Music blared from gramophones, and on the grass beyond the trees there were people dancing. A young American serviceman, scarcely eighteen by the look of him, rushed up to them. "Care for a dance, miss?" he said, holding his hands out to Binnie.

Binnie laughed and dropped Eileen's hand. "If the music's good, and you promise not to step on my toes." She took his arm and skipped after him into the park south of the Mall.

Letting go of Alf's hand but holding tight to Eileen's, Ezra turned to face her. "I promise not to step on your toes either, if you'd like to dance as well."

Eileen smiled. "You dance? Did they teach you that in seminary?" She swept into a teasing curtsy. "Thank you, Mr. Goode, I'd very much like to dance. Alf, do you mind—"

"I can 'andle myself," Alf said. "Don't worry about me." He walked over to a nearby group that had several young women in it. Approaching the youngest—who was still several years older than him; she looked at least fourteen—he proceeded to ask her to dance. He was greeted with giggles, but when he parted from the group he was triumphantly clutching the girl's hand.

"I guess he meant it," Eileen said. "Well, we can't let my children show us up. Let's show them that we old folks can dance just as well as they."

Ezra slid his hands around her waist, gently caressing. "You're not old at all, my dear Eileen. You're just right."

She laughed happily and put her hands on his shoulders. "I'm glad you think so. After all, if I were any younger, I might be too young for you, and then where would I be?"

Ezra spun her slowly in a circle. "Probably dancing with a handsome American, like Binnie is." He cocked his head to the side. "I don't think this is a song one is meant to dance slowly to," he said.

"Which song were you dancing to?" Eileen asked. "I can hear at least three gramophones from here."

"I'm not quite sure," Ezra said. "And I think there's four; it's just that two of them are both playing 'In the Mood'. So perhaps we're meant to dance to that." He slid his hands up to her shoulders, then ever so slowly down her arms until her hands were clasped in his. "Ready to dance a little faster?"

"I'm game if you are," Eileen said, and followed his lead.

The trick was to select one single tune out of the cacophony, and then to dance towards that gramophone and away from the others. The other music never faded away completely, but then neither did the laughter and yells and cheers. And after all, even if they didn't always manage to dance in time with the music, they were still dancing. They were joyful and together and alive, and so was everyone around them.

"Whew!" Ezra exclaimed after they had danced for the rest of that song and all of another. "You're hard to keep up with."

"I don't know, I thought you were keeping up very well," Eileen said. She looked around for Alf and Binnie.

"Alf's over there," Ezra said. "He's still with the same girl, although now they're talking instead of dancing."

Eileen looked where he indicated. The girl was laughing at something Alf had said. Eileen wondered whether he was telling a story about something that had actually happened to him, or whether he had made something up. A life as eventful as his was could make for some entertaining stories, once they were well in the past. She wouldn't be laughing about the grenade any time soon. "Can you see Binnie?"

"She's over there," he said, pointing the opposite direction from Alf. "She passed us once or twice while we were dancing. I think she moved on from the soldier who originally asked her to dance to another—or perhaps multiple others in succession, I wasn't paying attention. But she seems to be enjoying herself, and not receiving any attention that she would not welcome." He turned back to Eileen, taking her hands in his own. "Both of your charges are safe and happy. It's all right to take a moment for you."

"Isn't that what we were just doing?"

"Well, I suppose," he said. "But..I thought it might be nice to talk. We haven't had much of a chance to."

"I'd like to," Eileen said. "But it's a little loud to talk at length, don't you think?"

"Well, perhaps not here. Nearer the lake?"

Eileen looked off to the south and frowned. "I suppose there's fewer dancers over there, at least. We might at least head that way, and if it's too loud to talk we can always just walk back." She took Ezra's arm when he offered it.

"I kept all your letters, you know," he said as they walked. "They were the first thing I packed when they told us we were being shipped back home."

"I kept yours, too. They're in a pasteboard box in my wardrobe, all tied up with ribbon. I know that sounds terribly unimaginative of me."

"I tied mine with ribbon, too. Although the ribbon's become quite bedraggled by this point, and it scarcely fits around the stack, you wrote so many and at such length. I probably ought to find a new ribbon."

"At least the pile won't be getting larger any more, so you know what size ribbon you need," Eileen said. They had reached the lake, but she didn't let go of his arm. They stood side by side, staring out at the water.

"Won't it?"

She frowned. "I thought—but of course, you'll be going back to Backbury, won't you? Yes, of course I'll write."

"The vicarship is open to me, should I wish to return," he said. "It's a good living, enough to support a family on if I wished."

"That's good," Eileen said.

"I'd rather you didn't have to write," Ezra said. He turned towards her, setting his hand on her shoulder. "I know I've scarcely been back for twenty-four hours, but after tasting what it's like to see you every day, nearly whenever I wish—I can't imagine going back to scavenging for crumbs, hoping and looking every day for a letter from you. Eileen, I hope it won't be unwelcome if I say that every time I thought about my future after the war, you always figured into it somehow."

Eileen gazed back at him. His hand still rested on her shoulder, and she placed her hand on top of his, lacing their fingers together. "It's not unwelcome," she said. "I've felt much the same. You're one of the most important people in my life." She paused as a particularly loud group of revelers passed them, laughing and hooting over nothing in particular. "But twenty-four hours might be rushing things just a bit," she said. "Why don't we wait a week and make sure we feel the same then. It's hard to be sure of how one feels about anything today, everything's in such a whirl."

"I can wait a week," Ezra said. "That—" he smiled, trying to find the words. "That's a fair answer."

"And then it can be a separate joy from the end of the war," Eileen said. "One joy for everyone in England, and another joy just for us. But for today, it's enough just to have you here with me."

"For me as well," he said. "Enough, and more than I dared hope for sometimes." He turned back to the lake, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "You can see all the stars' reflections," he commented. "It's beautiful."

"Yes, it is," Eileen said. "I haven't come here in far too long."

There were running footsteps from behind them. "Mum!" Alf called. He ran up to them. "I wondered where you'd gone off to. Got tired of dancing?"

"Well, you know us old people," Eileen teased. "What about you, did you enjoy yourself?"

Alf nodded enthusiastically. "I danced with a nice girl named Margot. She was the prettiest girl around—well, 'cause you and Binnie were already taken, of course. She looked sort of familiar, but I can't think where I've met her before."

"It could have been anywhere," Eileen said. "You run into all sorts of people on a day like this."

Binnie came running up to them, arms flailing. She looked on the verge of tears.

"Are you all right?" Eileen asked hurriedly. "Did the soldier you were dancing with—"

"How _could_  you?" Binnie wailed to Alf. "Couldn't you at least introduce me?"

Alf frowned. "Who?"

Binnie stomped her foot. "Princess Margaret, you noddlehead. I can't believe you danced with the princess and didn't introduce your own sister to her!"

"Now, Binnie, there's a lot of young women who look like the princesses," Ezra said. "And the light isn't very good."

Binnie continued to glare at Alf. "I'm sure it was her."

"If it was, I didn't recognize her," Alf said.

"The princesses don't go running through parks dancing with random commoners," Ezra said.

Binnie looked closely at Eileen. "What do you think, Mum?"

Eileen took a deep breath, pushing all the history she knew about VE-Day to the back of her head. "I'm sure the princesses are just as happy as everyone else that the war is over, and they probably want to celebrate just as much as we do. But that doesn't make it likely that a random girl that Alf found to dance with would be anyone in particular."

"Maybe you should go after her and ask her for another dance," Ezra said with a grin. "Just in case. Which way did she go?"

"She went over that way," Alf said, leading him along the path to point out where he'd last seen the girl.

Left alone with Eileen, Binnie took the opportunity to ask the question Eileen had seen earlier in her eyes. "You know, don't you, Mum? Did the princesses go out tonight?"

Eileen frowned. She didn't want to lie to Binnie, and she was pretty sure Binnie knew that she didn't. "They went out, but I don't know where. They were probably in the crowd when we were cheering the king and the queen, but they could have gone anywhere after that. But Binnie, you have to understand, I can't tell you all about the future just because I know it. How would you and Alf live your own lives then? There are some things you're just going to have to experience for yourself. I'm not sure exactly where the boundaries lie or what the rules should be; but when we get home, after the celebrations are over and there's time to think about other things, we're going to need to have a talk about what it means to have a time traveler in the family."

"A time traveler?"

Eileen spun around. She'd forgotten to listen for Alf and Ezra coming back. Ezra looked puzzled, but more understanding than she would have liked. She could claim that she had been telling Binnie about a science fiction story she'd read, but she didn't think he'd be convinced. Not if he already doubted. If Alf and Binnie already guessed, then—

"On second thought, maybe we'd better have the talk now," Binnie said. She was smirking, all disappointment over the princess forgotten.

"Yeah, go on, Mum," Alf said. "Tell the vicar about our time traveler in the family."

Eileen took a deep breath. Ezra smiled at her encouragingly, and maybe even a bit hopefully. She was surrounded by people who cared about her; this didn't have to be difficult. "Well, you see, my name wasn't always Eileen O'Reilly..."

**Author's Note:**

> Sources referenced:
> 
>   * [This Tumblr post](http://mxverik.tumblr.com/post/92491052240/does-anyone-know-peggy-carters-army-rank) thoughtfully lays out why Peggy Carter might have held the rank of a Section Officer in the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force.
>   * I collected information about Princess Elizabeth & Margaret’s incognito night out in several places, including [this article in the Telegraph](http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/film/11561880/The-Queens-Big-Night-Out-what-really-happened.html).
>   * As it ended up, rationing was barely mentioned in this story, but [this Cook’s Info article](http://www.cooksinfo.com/british-wartime-food) still proved to be a great resource.
> 



End file.
